


Ink Stick

by PhantomProducer



Series: A Call to Arms [10]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Commander Steve Rogers, Conception Sex, Established Relationship, Established Steve Rogers/OC, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Multilingual!Steve Rogers, NSFW, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, One Shot, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers is Not Captain America, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Steve Rogers/OC are parents, Trying To Conceive, Use of Irish, Wall Sex, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, and they have a dog, trying to get pregnant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 11:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11942763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomProducer/pseuds/PhantomProducer
Summary: Summer has arrived, temperatures slowly rise, and Steve and Holly Rogers intend to make the most of one of their nights together as their son sleeps. In more ways than one.First half set before Ch. 22 of the FF.net story,In Due Course; the second half takes place between the storiesIn Due CourseandDarkest Before Dawn. One-shot.





	Ink Stick

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a little while, but I have done it! Another Steve/Holly piece straight from the tar pits of my mind!  
> A classy broad, I am one. ;-)
> 
> Back story, as ever: Steve and Holly have a bit of time on the cusp of a weekend, after a long day at work and caring for their son. Intent on having fun, they find themselves making an important choice, too, for their future as a family. The results of the choice are to be seen in the future.
> 
> I own nothing of the MCU, just the OC, Holly Rogers (maiden name Martin). You can read about her relationship with Steve Rogers, and her experiences with the other Avengers over on FF.net under the same username I have here.

It had started off well enough. With Grant in bed for the night, and their corgi, Bonnie, asleep as well, Steve and Holly Rogers had elected to stay up a little later. It was the first Friday in June, the blooming summer day having rolled into a heady evening. Work at the base had gone as usual, with Steve having just finished meetings with Fury and Hill, and Holly working her way through a chapter of her novel in between projects in the archives department. Their little boy, just a month away from his first birthday, had been active that evening between dinner and bedtime, rolling on the floor and squealing happily when his daddy and mommy “chased” after him. It had been a long day for the parents, and they were ready to wind down.

Taking the small bit of free time they had with one another, they settled in with one of Holly's romantic comedies (it was one of the worse ones, and they both were trading remarks on the poor dialogue and the choices made by the characters). She'd rested at his side, nestling into Steve as he slung an arm around her, his hand palming her waist.

Only, it did not just rest there. His thumb began to rub small circles into the fabric of her blouse, fingers joining the mix after a few minutes. When they'd slipped under the hem and began to dance over her skin, she'd looked up at him, eyebrows rising. His gaze remained focused on the movie, but she saw his eye crinkle at the corner, and the lip he'd bitten to stem a lascivious grin as his hand began to quest higher. Clicking her tongue, she forced her eyes away, a plan of her own burgeoning in her mind. Nonchalantly, she shifted, sitting up enough pull her arm from around his waist. He paused in his quest, undoubtedly wondering if he'd pushed too far that evening, only to stifle a groan when her palm came to rest on his thigh. Idly, she stroked upward, thumb pressing down on the inseam as she went. Spurred on, he resumed his path, the softening callouses on his skin dragging upward and skimming along the edges of her bra. A spiral of heat shot down her abdomen and flushed outward as his finger slipped under the cup, the swell of her breast brushed languidly. In return, she'd ran her hand even higher, unable to hide a smirk when her palm nudged his hardening length. Her own thighs twitched together, the touches exciting her just as much. Steve nuzzled at her temple then, just as he pulled the cup of her bra down and he took her breast in hand. A small squeeze, and a pluck of her nipple with his thumb and forefinger, and she bit back a moan. Her palm covered his clothed penis then, rubbing at it and cupping it through the material, both their hips moving in response to the stimulation they provided one another.

When Holly looked up at Steve again, into the darkness that had eclipsed his blue irises, she could not longer play the game. Their mouths connected fast as she straddled his lap, hands frantically pulling and tugging at one another's clothing as her hips ground down onto his hardness. Mumbling something about going upstairs, she felt him nodding, his strong arms wrapping around her and hoisting her up as he stood. Legs wrapped automatically around his waist, her hands clinging to his shoulders as he cupped her ass and held her close. Practically running them both up to their room, he couldn't make it to the bed. Shutting the door behind them with his heel, Steve pushed Holly against the wall, prying her legs off him and lowering her. Her mouth opened to ask why he'd done so, until she felt him snapping open the button of her jeans, leaving her gaping as he shoved them and her panties down to her ankles. Stepping out of them, she retained enough presence of mind to do the same with his pants and boxers, which he shucked with equal alacrity. With their shirts and her bra removed, he swooped in again, her curves molding to the cut and angles of his form as he picked her up again. Pressed hard into the wall, they clashed teeth and tongues for several more minutes, until Steve pulled back and thought of something else, something necessary for their coupling.

“Doll, I gotta go get protection,” he breathed against her mouth, planting a hand firmly beside her. Cheekily, she grinned and shook her head.

“No,” she murmured, her legs tightening around his waist. A groaning chuckle washed through him, and she gave a shaky laugh of her own as she felt him brush along her folds. He wouldn't use his enhanced strength to pry her off that time, but he did tap and nudge her waist and flank. When she refused to budge, he arched an eyebrow at her.

“I can just carry you over, but putting on a condom with you clinging like a monkey won't be easy,” he muttered, slinging his arm around her back and pulling her chest against his. The playful gleam in her eyes remained, but her expression took on a thoughtful air.

“And what if...what if I don't want you to?” she wondered, biting her lip after the words had already dripped out. At once, Steve stopped moving, his bright gaze searching hers.

“I thought you wanted to wait until Grant had his birthday,” he pointed out. He recalled their conversation in January as well as she; they had chosen to put aside the possibility of having more children until their son had reached his first birthday. Blinking at her, he went on, “Thought we were gonna talk about it then.”

Holly shrugged a shoulder. She wasn't in the least nonchalant about it, but there was little way to express herself physically. Knowing the gesture wouldn't be enough, she did speak again.

“His birthday is only a month away. Besides, I think the conversation is gonna be pretty short,” she surmised, placing a palm on his cheek. With her thumb stroking over the skin, she asked, “Do you want another baby, Steve?”

Steve's eyes remained on hers, the surprise in him forcing honesty to the fore. “Well...yeah.”

“I do, too.” Satisfied, she planted a chaste peck on his lips, bumping the end of her nose to his. “See? Told you it would be a short conversation.”

Her fingers slid into his hair, to pull him into another kiss, but he stopped just short of her lips, barely brushing them before he was drawing back again.

“You sure about this, Holly? I mean, you're still writing your book, and Grant's still pretty young. And our jobs...” he trailed off, glancing away then. He meant what he'd said; he definitely wanted to have another child with his wife. However, there were many other things to consider in their lives, and she'd already done so much for him...he sighed deeply. “I don't, I don't want you to think you have to just because I...”

Taking his chin between her thumb and forefinger, she gently turned his head so he would look at her again. The sincerity outlining her features had not wavered, and something deep inside him felt relieved to see it.

“Hon, I told you it would be a _when_ , not an _if_. Months ago,” she stated bluntly, the truth of it hanging heavily in the air. Another thought occurred to her then, and she continued, “And...and who knows if we'll have another chance, further down the road?”

There was no refuting that, even if he wanted to. With his work as an Avenger, as the commander of the world's elite task force, there was no guaranteeing his safety. Even with him being less in the field than before, that did preclude the possibility of being sent into danger. And there was no guarantees that Holly would remain out of harm's way, either. At that moment, they were in a time of peace, the longest they'd ever had since they first started their relationship. She wanted to take the chance that they had, while they still had it.

“I want another baby with you, Steven,” she told him plainly, the pads of her fingers running down the back of his neck. The corner of her mouth quirked, and she chuckled, “I want another part of you and me running around, driving us crazy.”

He snorted, leaning his forehead against hers. “Getting where they shouldn't. Painting the kitchen with their dinner or other things.”

Despite the words, it was easy to hear the fondness in them. The fondness he held for raising their son, even with the miniature disasters the little boy could render in an afternoon. And the happiness for when he was the sweetest baby they'd ever encountered.

“Another little one to love, and help grow up,” she whispered, unable to stem the pleasure in her own voice at the thought. Steve's arms shifted, holding her steady as he nuzzled her neck.

“Holl,” he hummed, his faulty resolve wavering in the face of her approval. Her lashes fluttered as he began to kiss her skin, sharp breaths rocketing out of her when he nipped lightly.

“No condom,” she pronounced, shifting her hips and grinding just enough to make him groan. With her mouth against his ear, she cooed, “Just us, just this. Whenever it comes.”

A few moments passed before she felt him nod, the brush of his hair against her cheek causing tingles to skitter over her body.

“Yes, baby doll,” he exhaled slowly, the sweet taste of her lips beckoning him once more. As he sipped at her mouth, he stepped forward, bracing her back against the wall again. Cupping her bottom with one hand, he lifted her up slowly, her arms wrapping around his shoulders for balance. The other hand reached around her thigh to take himself in hand. The tip was teased at her entrance, a deep rumble in his chest coming out as a chortle when she huffed in impatience. Soon, though, he couldn't even stand his own teasing, and so began to slide inside. At once, her head tipped back against the wall, a moan rising from deep down.

“God, you feel so good,” he choked out, hard breaths filling his chest once he was fully seated inside her. It had been some time since they'd had sex without coverage, and he couldn't deny the intensity that it had brought to the moment. After a small nod from her to start, he started to thrust, the immense pleasure of the motion heating him up even further. And she relished the drag and thickness of him inside her, pushing back as much as she could pinned against the wall.

“Right there, fuck, there,” she moaned in his ear, tightening her legs around him and the nails of her left hand digging into his back. Taking the encouragement, he thrust up a little harder, a little faster, the clench of her walls around him making a shiver run down his spine. Over and over he hit her sweet spot deep inside, the grind of his body on her clit sending sparks along her veins. Her other hand clenched in his hair, tugging as he swiped his tongue over her pulse point. The hardness behind her, and inside her had her gasping and groaning along with him, the heat and the sweat compacting it all.

“Close?” he asked, near the brink himself and hoping that she would be ready soon, too. The flutter of her walls around him were a good clue, but he had to be certain. He had to hold on, had to make sure his wife was taken care of.

“Uh-huh,” she breathed, her mouth hot against his throat. The hand on her hip squeezed, another ragged breath tearing out of him as she pressed up against him. Pulling back slightly, he bent so as to take one of her nipples in his mouth. Suckling hard, she gave a little yelp when he flicked over it with his tongue. The swipes trailed to the other breast, giving it attention as well. The stimulation ratcheted up, the edge in sight then. Skin slapped against skin, the rise and fall reaching a fever pitch as his thrusts were met by her shifts.

“Come on, come on...” Steve grunted, lips catching Holly's in a hot, messy kiss. Tongues rolled and ran along each other, another fire running down his belly when she sucked his into her mouth. Nips and bites were dealt to necks and shoulders, the continual rush and flow bringing them to the brink. A good grind, a few more pounding thrusts, and suddenly she arched into him, short and sharp cries issuing from her throat as she succumbed to the pleasure and desire between them. The clamp and shift had him pushing, grinding, his own end chased after as hers thundered through her. A few more pumps, and he was gone, too, the slick rush bursting forth as he stiffened. His had been silent, his mouth formed into a wide O of intense satisfaction. The thrusts petered off as the orgasms were ridden out, the warmth and the passion of the moments keeping them there. An elbow of his braced him up, his knees slightly weak after their actions against the wall. Neither of them dared to move, lingering kisses and touches given as they stayed there. Only when he'd significantly softened did they move away, the sticky slide of it all ignored as he carried her to their bed. Laying her down, he answered the click of her gaze to the bathroom door with a nod, his breath steadying as he wandered into the adjoining room. The creak of a cupboard door was followed by the rush of water, and he emerged soon afterward, a wet washcloth in hand. Taking it from him when he crossed and offered it to her, she swiped at her folds, cleaning herself. He'd done the same when she'd finished, throwing the cloth into the bathroom and letting it splat on the floor. Both of them were too satiated and worn out to care about it, their gazes focused on one another.

“You know, it might not work the first time,” he muttered, taking deep breaths as he laid down beside her. A giggle poured out of her then, and she turned to look at him. Holly's dark eyes were half-lidded, luminous in spite of the energetic outpouring of desire they'd just participated in.

“Well, we'll just have to keep trying then, huh?” she stated, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue. The faint traces of salt were still there, his sweat still on her mouth, and she sighed dreamily. As she closed her eyes, she couldn't help but smirk when the mattress shifted beneath her, the hot length of her husband's body settling over her making it starker.

“ _A chuisle mo chro_ _í_ ,” he whispered, the tip of his nose bumping hers. Bracing himself on his hands, he looked down at her, spying the seriousness setting in her face. Spiking an eyebrow, he wondered, “What?”

“Um...” she started, biting her lip as her brow screwed up in thought. After a spare second, her dark irises brightened, and she dipped her chin at him. “ _Póg mé_.”

Steve blinked, a slow and ecstatic smile dawning then. Her request, her demand for him to kiss her, was not new, but the language was. After expressing her wishes to learn more back in February, he had taken it upon himself to teach her a little bit at a time, a few simple words and phrases squeezed into their busy work schedules and raising their son. She'd also picked up a phrase book from the Internet, which he knew she'd been perusing on and off. Evidently, she'd been making good use of her studies.

“You've been practicing,” he said, pride effusing his tone as he looked down at her.

She nodded at once, though a ripple of concern registered on her features. “Was it okay?”

Clicking his tongue, he leaned down then, giving into the request she'd made. His lips captured hers, fingers tracing up and down from her stomach to her breasts and back. As she opened her mouth, he slipped in, tongue pressing gently to hers briefly before he withdrew.

“What do you think?” he mumbled, trailing his lips across her cheek and to her neck. He could feel her body shifting, the prickle of her skin as his hands ran down her sides accompanied by warmth, and she gave a stuttering gasp.

“I think I'm ready to try again,” she confessed, one leg crooking around his hip, a grunt of pleasure pushing out of him as their bodies slotted together once more.

**xXxXxXx**

As predicted, the first attempt at conception did not take; Holly's period had arrived a few days after that. While a tremor of disappointment was shared between them, they were realistic enough to know that it would've been highly unlikely. And so, Steve and Holly continued to try.

Summer soldiered on, and before the end of August was reached, the young brunette woman started to notice a few things. The first was the nausea, coming at odd hours during the days and wreaking havoc on her stomach. The next was the distinct sharpening of smells, which could also trigger the initial change. Then came the tender breasts, and the increased fatigue (even more so than a mother of a one-year-old generally had).

What was truly telling was what wasn't happening, or what hadn't happened. The real red flag, as it were, had her heart thumping in hope and simultaneous worry. And with her husband being an observant man—granted, the first time around, he'd only thought she was sick, but he knew what to watch out for now—she could see it reflected in his eyes, the blue ever-brighter as he scanned over her, wondering if it was true.

Therefore, she shouldn't have been terribly surprised to find not the single home pregnancy test in their cart as they shopped for groceries the following week, but three different ones. Steve, as they approached the cashier, sported spots of pink in his cheeks—and his ears were the same shade as well—but he said nothing when she lifted them out one by one. All she could do, as she paid for their food, was wonder when he'd slipped the other two in.

(Maybe when Grant had grown restless in his seat in the cart and needed a quick cheering-up bounce in her arms, she supposed. She was distracted enough, and her husband was a tactician, highly adept at finding advantages when he had a plan in mind.)

Due to the number of tests, Holly knew she would not be able to take them all at once. Quietly, she told Steve that she would take them all over the course of a few hours, pointedly swallowing down as much water as she could in the interim. Each time she went into their bathroom, she'd brought a plastic sandwich baggy with her, sealing the used test in their own bags and putting them to the side until the final one was to be taken. Her nerves snapped and shuddered over the course of those hours, the excitement and potential disappointment held off as she tucked the first two into a drawer and walked away. Her partner was nearly as impatient as she, his leg bouncing as he sat at their table and watched over Grant as he ate his lunch and his astute gaze following her each time she went upstairs.

The final test was unboxed shortly before four in the afternoon, and she already felt exhausted from it all. The uncertainty was wearing her down, and she felt like her poor bladder was taking her actions as a warning sign of what was to come, but she was undeterred. That time, Steve had gone upstairs with her, Grant nearly finished with his afternoon nap and their dog, Bonnie, just laying down to take her own. The house was quiet, save for their furtive breaths and the tense snap in the air. Going into the bathroom, she shut the door on him just as he sat on the edge of the bed, hands lacing together as he rested his elbows on his knees.

Another test, another baggy, she mused to herself as she took in a deep breath and did as directed by the instructions. When she'd finished, she quickly transferred it to the bag waiting on the counter, zipping it up fast before washing her hands. The minutes required for the results were the slowest she'd ever experienced in her life, her pacing accompanied by her hand scrubbing over the scar on her forehead. Her cell phone alarm chirped just as she was about to lose her nerve and leave the room. Taking in a deep breath, she strode back to the counter, her fingers shaking as she reached for it. Turning it over, she felt her heart drop into her stomach. Blinking rapidly, she set it back down, and pawed at the drawer swiftly. The other two tests were withdrawn, and she bit her lip hard. For a long moment, her eyes darted from one test to the next, the concurrent results saying far more than she could express. Palming one of them, she fiddled it between her fingers for a few seconds before pivoting on her heel and squaring her shoulders.

Carefully, Holly opened the bathroom door, peeking around it to look at Steve. He hadn't moved a muscle in the time she'd holed up in there, until he heard the click and the shift of the panels. She took in the sight of him, the soft spikes of his blond hair and the light fuzz on his cheeks and chin. Anticipation rippled through his form, his shoulders tightening as he stood up.

“Sweetheart, what does it say?” he asked, the hopeful look on his face beginning to drain away. Her musings were brushed away by the desire to let him know the truth. Cautiously, she stepped fully into the bedroom and pulled her hand from behind her back, the sandwich-bagged test offered to him.

“Take a look,” she implored, struggling to keep her composure. As he took the bagged test from her, she could feel it slipping little by little, her hands curling around the hem of her shirt as she watched him turn it over and stare at it. His eyes narrowed in on the window along the side, eyebrows inclining.

“Two lines. What does...” he trailed off, looking up at her and spying the way she bit her lip. She was biting her lip to hide a smile, and her dark irises were dancing with light. Understanding dawned, and he took in a deep breath. “It's happening?”

Her smile finally broke free, unable to be restrained any longer. Happily, she nodded and took another step closer to him.

“Yeah.”

Steve continued to stare at the bagged test for several more moments, and then he looked up at her, his eyes practically glittering.

“It's happening?” he repeated, his voice dropping a few notches. One hand reached up, cupping along the back of her neck, his thumb stroking her skin. “You're really pregnant?”

She snickered lightly. “Considering that's one of three tests I've taken that came up with that result, I'd say so.”

“You're pregnant.” As the information fully sank in, Steve took a step back, his tremulous grin turning into a full-blown whoop and smile. (Through the closed door of their bedroom, a high-pitched yip rebounded, their corgi awakened by the grown man's joy.) Arms went wide in the air before he moved back to her, scooping her up. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her off her feet, he peppered kisses on her face and neck. Pure joy lit his features, laced his voice as he whispered in her ear, “Love you, so, so much.”

Holly kissed Steve back, putting all the excitement and happiness bubbling inside her into it.

“Love you, too,” she said against his lips, giggling as he turned with her in his arms and sighed. Setting her gently onto her feet, he drew away, holding up a one-minute finger before rushing out of the room. Chuckling to herself, she stooped to fetch up the test he'd dropped on the ground, discreetly wiping away the joyful tears at the corners of her eyes. Placing the bagged device on the dresser, she turned in time to see him come back into their bedroom, Grant in his arms and his wide smile remaining.

“Hey, buddy,” he said to the little guy, bouncing him a bit in his arms. Grinning at them, Holly sat down on the edge of their bed as he enticed the boy, “Guess what?”

“Wha'?” Grant asked, a few fingers tucked into his mouth as his daddy brought him fully into the room. Sitting down on the bed beside Holly, Steve sat him on his lap. Tipping the boy's chin up with one finger, he smiled wide.

“Very soon, you're gonna be a big brother,” he told the little guy, his hand coming down as Holly scooted closer. His palm moved and splayed over her her belly, the warmth of his skin bleeding through the material of her shirt. As she covered his hand with her own, he murmured, “Mommy's having a baby, bud.”

Grant looked up at them, his head tipping to the left and his sandy brown hair flopping. “Ba-ba.”

Steve nodded. “Yep, a baby. In a few months, we'll be bringing you a little brother or sister home.”

Big blue eyes blinked up at Holly then, and Grant leaned forward, his spit-slicked fingers patting over theirs as they continued to rest on her belly.

“'Is?” he asked, looking to his mother for clarification that time. Holly grinned and chuckled at him, fingers stroking his little cheek.

“Maybe, Grant. Maybe you'll have a sister,” she told him, daring to allow herself a moment to imagine the new arrival, possibly a little girl in pink. Lifting a shoulder, she continued, “Or a brother; we'll see.”

“I'll be happy, either way,” Steve muttered softly, meeting her gaze for a few seconds. Beneath the joy and happiness, a small frisson of fear shot across his irises. She recognized it for what it was, could see that he was already concerned for the child within her. Especially since she was only in the first trimester. A blink, and then the fear was gone, his attention turned back to the little toddler in his lap. Hoisting up the boy, he stood him up on his legs, his hands bracing Grant as he stood and balanced his small hand on his shoulders. Looking at him directly, he stated, “You know what else that means? It means we gotta help take special care of Mommy, too.”

A playful roll of the eyes followed that, and Holly snickered. “Already did this once, hon. I didn't magically turn into glass then, and that's definitely not the case now.”

“Still am gonna take care of you, whether you like it or not,” her husband countered, his half-smile returning. She couldn't help but smirk and shake her head at him, but she let his promise stand.

“Mama!” Grant cried happily, reaching out to her. Scooping him up from his father, Holly smiled broadly as the little boy sat in her lap, patting her belly again. Nodding once, he pronounced, “'Is.”

“That's right, and we're gonna watch over both of them,” Steve professed staunchly, chucking the toddler under his chin. The little boy was so pleased with the prospect, even if he couldn't fully understand it, and he wiggled in his mother's lap, alternating babbling nonsense and calling to his 'sister'.

Leaning closer to her husband, she murmured low, “If it's a boy, we better not tell him his brother thought he was a girl.”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek, not quite able to hide the grin blooming. “Not until later.”

Weeks later, when the ultrasound was performed and the sex of the baby was determined, it was agreed between Holly and Steve that Grant's correct prediction would make a great story in the future. At least it would be, to them.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Translations for what Steve and Holly say in the text:  
>  _“A chuisle mo chroí.”_ -Gaelic (Irish); Pulse of my heart.  
>  _“Póg mé.”_ -Gaelic (Irish); Kiss me.
> 
> Holly's learning that Irish, too...  
> This story was partially inspired by two GIFs: one of Chris Evans exclaiming, "It's happening, it's happening!", and another of Lucy Griffiths examining a pregnancy test in one of the film projects she's been a part of.


End file.
